


A Wintery Day

by CynthiaK2014



Series: Highlander [10]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3958483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynthiaK2014/pseuds/CynthiaK2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected challenge leads to some fireside loving.  Day 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wintery Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Characters belong to Rysher. No infringement intended. No money changed hands.

A Wintery Day

Duncan Macleod stamped the snow from his feet and fumbled the key into the side door lock. His gloves made his hands more clumsy than usual and it had been a long day. Glancing over at the parking space where Methos usually parked, he sighed. No car meant no Methos and he really needed a Methos fix right about now.

The elevator seemed to go more slowly than usual while he leaned against the wall and contemplated what to fix for dinner tonight. Something simple. Something that could be reheated when Methos got home. Juggling his keys, gloves and scarf, he sensed the presence of another Immortal on the other side of his front door.

Tensing, he reached for his sword before realising that the pattern was familiar. Methos. Smiling, he finished opening the door into what could have passed for a blast furnace. The temperature had to be at least 80 degrees. Locking the door behind him, he hurriedly took off his coat and hung it beside Methos'. Slipping off his boots, he felt the damp rising from his lover's sleeve and fingered the sodden fabric with a frission of concern. It was sopping wet. Was that blood?

His breath shortened. Casting around for Methos' boots, he couldn't find them at all. Now, he was really worried. What had Methos been up to? Gazing at the loft, he searched for his lover. A mound of blankets in front of the fireplace stirred and a soft moan floated out of the furry pile.

"Duncan?"

He hurried to the roaring fire, already wishing that he had on fewer clothes. He was beginning to sweat beneath his white sweater. Kneeling beside the blankets, he cautiously pulled the top one away to reveal the flushed face of his groggy lover. Feeling heat beneath his knees, he noticed that Methos was lying on the electric blanket while sweltering under what appeared to be every coverlet in the loft.

"Hi, love." Methos smiled a little tentatively while thin fingers stole out to touch Duncan's knee.

"Hi, yourself." Duncan leaned over and kissed the pale lips, starting at the shock of icy coldness. "What happened to you? No car or boots and your coat is wet through."

"Had a little run in with a hostile Immortal. Unfortunately, we both fell in the lake while I was taking his head. I lost the keys to the car in the water and once hypothermia started to set in, I couldn't keep looking for them. It was only three miles from here so I walked home."

Duncan shivered in sympathy at the thought of his lover alone and freezing in the cold February afternoon. "How about a hot drink?"

"I'd rather have a hot lover but some scalding tea would be nice." Methos smiled wanly.

"Oh, the hot lover is here for you but a little tea might warm you up so I don't get frostbite when I make heated . . . steamy . . . molten love with you." Duncan pressed his lips harder to the cold mouth beneath his own and felt it flicker to warmth. Tracing the thin lips with his tongue, he dipped inside to meet the slippery tongue of his lover. It felt odd to have only this one point of contact with Methos, so he clasped the lean cold hand that trembled on his knee, trying to warm it with his own.

"Oh, that feels good." Methos breathed out.

"Let me get the tea and start some soup simmering." Duncan pulled away just far enough to watch those hazel eyes flutter lazily. "Then I'll be back with some warm sandalwood oil to massage some warmth back into you."

Methos shivered but this time Duncan didn't think it was with cold. He wrapped the soft green eiderdown comforter closer around his lover before rising to his feet and making for the kitchen. Knowing that Methos would heal on his own but enjoying the chance to coddle him, he put on the tea kettle and opened the fridge to check the state of their vegetable supply. Pulling out a kettle, he chopped up some onion, carrot, celery and potato. Shredding some cabbage, he combined them all into a base of half chicken stock and half water.

Throwing in a handful of herbs and spices, he covered the pot and set it to simmer. In a couple of hours, they'd have soup. The water was boiling merrily and he took down the big white porcelain tea pot and set it on a teak wood tray. Throwing in a handful of a spice tea Methos liked, he poured the steaming water over the leaves and let it steep.

Pulling out two cups, he set them on the tray and picked it up to carry it to the fire. Methos' eyes opened when the tray clinked on the hearth. Knowing he was watching, Duncan knelt and began to remove his white sweater. Bringing it slowly up over his stomach and chest, he pulled it over his head and flung it to one side. With Methos' eyes glued to his hands, he began to unbutton his jeans and slide them down over his slender hips, taking his boxers with them. 

Carefully peeling back the blankets, he exposed his over-dressed lover. Laughing gently, he slipped his hands under the double set of fleece tops and slowly slid them up and off the chilled body. The chest was clammy to his touch and he reached for the vial warming by the fire. Pouring a small pool of golden oil between the small brown nipples, he began a gentle massage of the spare torso, from shoulder to waistband. The pale skin slowly assumed a better color and Duncan switched to the long arms.

Methos all but purred while Duncan's strong broad hands chafed the skin into warmth. Taking a break, he poured a cup of tea and pulled Methos up into a sitting position. Piling pillows behind him, he watched while his lover swallowed the hot tea with a sigh.

"Feeling warmer?" Duncan traced a path down the lean chest to rest on the flat stomach by the waistband.

"Oh yeah!" Methos raised a shaky hand and cupped Duncan's cheek. "You could warm a week old corpse, love. I think I'll survive."

"Oh, I can guarantee survival." Duncan laughed and stole the cup to drink the rest of the tea. "But I'm looking for total meltdown."

"Really?" Methos' eyes went smoky and his voice dropped an octave. "Well, you can try."

Duncan smiled a feral grin. "I don't try . . . I do." Putting down the cup, he grabbed the waistband of the fleece running pants and pulled them over the slim hips and down the long legs. Tangling with the wool socks, he wriggled them off only to be confronted with a pair of cotton athletic socks. Pulling them off, he found another pair of silk socks and he began to laugh while peeling them off the ice cold feet.

Methos finished pouring another cup of tea then passed him the vial of oil. Duncan briskly rubbed the feet between his warm hands before oiling them and beginning a gentle massage that brought them to tingling life. From dead white, they gradually assumed a rosy hue. Moving the legs to either side of his, Duncan knelt up and began a slow glide up the right leg, using his thumbs to stroke the nerves to life all the way up to the groin.

Keeping one eye on the flaccid penis that nestled in the sandy pubic curls, Duncan switched to the left leg, moving back and forth between them. Methos twitched and began to come to life. Pouring some more oil into his well warmed hands, Duncan stroked the quivering stomach muscles before leaning down and sucking the rising cock deep into his throat.

Methos groaned and thrust up once but Duncan's hands kept him firmly grounded. He teasingly licked up and down the hardening erection, poking his tongue into the reddened slit in the head that wept a single tear of clear fluid. Sucking delicately at the flaring crimson head, he moved one oily hand to his own hardening cock and stroked it to full life.

The other hand moved behind the twitching balls and teased the perineum before breaching the puckered opening with one long finger. Methos raised his hips in reflex and moaned, his head thrashing back and forth on the pillows. Duncan saw only the flushed skin and felt only the blood hot channel that clamped around the second finger he introduced with a scissoring motion.

"Duncan!"

Pulling back and blowing a hot breath across the weeping cock, Duncan said innocently. "Warmer, Methos?"

The hazel eyes met the warm brown gaze with a sultry look. "I need something . . . hotter than the tea I just drank. Something . . . internally stimulating. I'm sure you can think of something . . . red hot." And his hand snaked forward to join Duncan's on his cock.

Taking a moment to make sure that Methos was sufficiently stretched, Duncan pulled the slim hips towards him and nudged the opening with his cock.

"Don't tease, love. I need you." Methos wriggled closer, keeping a firm grip on his own cock.

"Need you too." Duncan thrust in until his balls rested again the firm cheeks, searing his lover with his strength and warmth.

He kept his rhythm slow and heated, pulling back until he was almost out before pushing back in with a sharp thrust right to Methos' prostate. Leaning in, he stilled the trembling lips beneath his with a leisurely kiss, his tongue mimicking the action of his cock. The molten depths of his lover warmed him both above and below.

Pulling back, he began a series of fast slides that made his nerves tingle and brought a series of moans from the man who undulated beneath him. "Now, love. Please, now."

"Melt for me, Methos." Duncan joined his lover's hand on the weeping cock and added just enough pressure to send Methos into silent spasm, the creamy white liquid pulsing out onto their joined hands.

The inner contractions sent Duncan into his own release, the burning liquid shooting up into the blistering hot depths. Collapsing onto Methos' chest, he listened to the pounding heart begin to slow. Those long clever fingers trembled as they rose to stroke the long black hair that cascaded over his chest.

"Hot enough for you?" Duncan hid his grin against the sweaty skin.

"You're a summer day in the middle of winter." Methos sighed against Duncan's ear. "The sun to my moon."

Duncan raised his head and met the tender gaze with a blush. "You inspire me with your love. When I'm with you, I think only of you. In the coldest night, you're always there to shelter me. Make me whole."

Methos feathered a caress across the firm lips above him. "Isn't it amazing? We complete each other." He kissed Duncan softly, all passion spent for the moment. "Not to mention, you're warmer than this electric blanket. I think we need to move to the tub and try for clean and hot instead of just hot."

Duncan laughed and separated from Methos with a sigh of loss. Standing up, he offered a hand to his glowing lover, who accepted his help with a grace that made Duncan feel like a over-muscled hulk. The slender figure came into his arms with a sigh.

"Bath and bed." Methos said into his neck. "You can feed me dinner in bed and I'll see about returning a little of your warmth."

Duncan grinned in anticipation and led his sleepy lover to the bath. The sooner to bed, the sooner Methos would rise again, filling him with his heat and passion. The night seemed warmer already.


End file.
